PS m 

0-l'5 




:•«*-■ "^tT 




in^A^'^c\?AAon:^ 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

§]pi^. §0pi|ng]^ f 0,- 

Shelf ..i.fi..a,lS4- 

ims 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



BEYOND THE BANK OF MIST 



A POEM 



BY 

ISAAC RIEMAN BAXLEY 

AUTHOR OF 

THE TEMPLE OF ALANTHUR," " THE PROPHET, 
•• SONGS OF THE SPIRIT." 




BUFFALO 

THE PETER PAUL BOOK COMPANY 

1895 



Y<=,\<i 



<>^ A- 






COPYRIGHTED. 1895, 
ISAAC RIEMAN BAXLEY 



Printed and bound by 

the peter paul book company 

buffalo, n. y. 



DEDICA TION. 

Beyond the bank of viist, 
Close in the crystal sea. 

Almost ashore, my Mother 
Is zvaiting there for me. 

She's zvaitmg, and she watches 
Keenly the shining main ; 

Sometimes I knoiv she catches 
My eager cry of pain. 

''Ah, if he knew the radiance 
Jnst here zuithin the sea. 

He scarce conld keep his Spirit 
From rnshing on to me. 

" My Child, a moment longer. 
Thy touch is on the tide. 

Thou on these pleasant billozvs 
Shalt journey by my side. 

"(9 Child, this is my pleasure 
To ivait upo)i the sea. 

And listen to the measure 
Of thy coming unto me.'' 

Ah, well I know she watches 
Keenly the crystal sea. 

Sometimes my Spirit catches 
Her eager s'ase for me. 



BEYOND THE BANK OF MIST. 



BEYOND THE BANK OF MIST. 

SOME scanned the flashing stars, wondered and knew 
Of splendid secrets in their light and shade, 
And some looked long what homes they traveled to — 
What mighty heavens their mighty selves o'erlaid. 

Not in the sea nor cloud ; sublimities 

Of any sudden star's intensity. 
Nor in the longest space that vacant lies 

Was what my Soul in search should answering see. 

I stood ; and an absorbing, vivid flame, 

Which was not earth, nor sun, nor heavens, nor star, 
Rushed through the inner darkness of my frame, 

And drew me past where these things measured are. 

Far back, over the fashion of my years. 

Where their revolving circles hung displayed. 

Another Vision stands, and calmly wears, 
Flashing unrolled, the cycles that I made. 



8 BEYOND THE BANK OF MIST. 

Where are ye, O forgotten, vanished years ? 

Ye are not Time, ye fade, and change, and die, 
Your likeness perishes ; it disappears 

In Spirit's splendid touch of alchemy. 

Thou drawest down the magic of thy hands. 
My Spirit, and with certain, changeless tongue. 

Parting the darkness, formest thy commands 

Out in the quivering space, where nothing hung. 

With words of perfect purpose, but of Time 

Unknowing till thyself I yielding be, 
Which being. Spirit, doth instilled define 

Into my sounding speech thyself and me? 



Lest thou and I, unseen, delivered. 

Unconscious of what mystic shape we use. 

Vanish unspoken to the speechless dead. 
Depart, with hidden lips that did refuse ; — 

Lest we imperfect sadden, lo, I fill 

Into the sounds of speech thy subtle share, 

Thyself art Spirit-broken save thy will 
Outpeal into my unaccustomed air. 



BEYOND THE BANK OF MIST. 9 

How should'st thou after shine with face that bears 
My image, but whose vacant heart had not 

Of hope in time, nor thought, nor taste of years 
Whose hands had touched thee had I not forgot ? 

Within thee, and thy splendid, widening gaze 
A sudden cloud would foam, and fill the spot 

Where hung the lamps of many, many days 

Thou should'st have seen and known, and knew them 
not. 

Speak on : if still with soundless lips 'tis thine 
More than all measure to sustain the flow. 

My echoing speech can gather and refine 
Only in thee — whose silent lips bestow. 

What country kept thee? Thou wert unexpressed — 

I dark and wearied ; suddenly upgrew, 
In all the dreadful stillness sat distressed 

Around me. Spirit : I saw thee there and knew. 

What other sound hath ever song in me ? 

Beholding thee, outgazing into Time, 
What can the orbs thou openest ever see. 

Expanding, but thyself in shades sublime ? 



lo BEYOND THE DANK OE MIST. 

Over thy wide, mysterious firmament 
Reflecting stands a far, unbroken flame. 

All things sweep outward with its strong intent. 
My Spirit opened in it and became — 

Vivid, and vividly the senses burned 

Out of myself, and I outstood as one 
Torn from the substance of a globe that turned 

From quivering cloud to a transparent sun. 

How can I name thee, O thou glorious flame ? 

Thou burnest up the sounds of speech, and sight 
Breaks from the face of being, keeping claim 

Along thy stretched extent of infinite. 

There is within thee sense of endless light. 

It is impossible I stand to see 
Place where thou wast not ; portion, distance, height 

Not yielding to thy rolling boundary. 

All, all the rapid stars wheeling away 

Over whatever courses in their tide, 
Gleam in thy splendidness ; superbly they 

Rush on, in thine identity supplied. 



BEYOND THE BANK OF MIST. n 

I cannot see, but on, forever on 

Bursts out th' expanded presence of thy will, 
O Spirit, who shall cease with purpose done 

For thee — who finished stand and thou be still ? 



Needless to question, and contend with Time 
That it should show thee, Old Magnificence, 

Or stretch the circuits of thy forms sublime, 
Or name with any name thy proud intents. 

Not yet the song, nor yet the psaltery 

To gather up thy glorious chords and flino- 

Abroad majestic tales, that peoples see 

What courses claim thine own instinctive wino-. 

t> ' 

Not yet to see the million worlds that fly 

On monstrous footways through the monstrous o-lades 
Where God exists, but, in my circle, I 

Stand and discern the lioht's increasing shades. 

I see the clouds ascending, and the place 

Of my nativity break on the air 
Of an intense existence, in the space 

Where once it hung, in questioning despair. 



12 BEYOND THE BANK OF MIST. 

I see the Spirit's glory, Spirit-wise, 

Burst on the darkness of deceit and death; 

I stand in Hstening-, lo, the rapid cries 

We cannot stem seal up the lips of breath. 

But there's no shade in all the countless years 
Can shadow me, my Spirit and my heart, 

There is no s^ulf, forever flooding tears, 

Can whelm the glittering path whereby I part; 



For it is burning in the Spirit's flame: 
I cannot, O I cannot lift the eyes 

Of scorning witnesses; nor call the name 
They are demanding in their long replies. 

I cannot draw the cloud that rolls between 
This wonder of my Spirit and the eyes 

Hid otherward; all things go by unseen 
And dreadful darkness fills their vacancies. 



Nor know I if our World is old and wide 
Enough to bear the happy Souls that fiee 

Over the streams of Time into that tide 
Of fathomless expanse, Eternit}-. 



BEYOND THE BANK OF MIST. 13 

How long- do we look backward to the shore 
And see the waves of Spirit burst on Time, 

How long we'll pass the waters o'er and o'er, 
Waitine the Souls that be in darker clime, — 

I nothing know: in all the armory 

Of splendid powers, guarding the heavenly ways. 
What mighty victor's set, expectantly 

For us illumining his fearless rays, — 

I nothing know: I know Spirit is pure, 

Dauntless, eternal; shall forever wait, 
And hope, and hide its failures, and endure 

Whatever worlds of exile or estate. 



I can not die: in all the fashioned fields, 
Remotely formincr Heaven, in any star 

Where never ending space distantly yields 
A roadway absolute, intensely far; — 

On World whatever, dead, and fiying on 

Through darkness, rapid, cold and oceanless, 

With nothing living, and no breath, alone. 
Dead to the heart, silent and motionless: — 



14 BEYOND THE BANK OE MIST. 

On any World I could not die, but be, 

Through years and years, gazing- in blackest space, 
With eyes that burned in darkness, but should see 

Not anything — nor any see my face: 

But still not die: onward the ages roll 

And onward I, whatever vast display 
Of distance solitary my chained Soul 

Should constant cleave on that wild orbit's wav. 



But never die: I should outlast till fell 

My Globe to nothingness, and was dispersed 

Over the rapid paths that kept the spell 

Whence rose its movements — where it sank immersed. 

Love touched me with immortal hands, and blazed 
Within me — what I was — immortal spark 

Where all had been unshining, and it gazed, 
Light gleaming through me, out into the dark. 

Some sun must flash into the fields and guide 
The deathless patience of transparent eyes 

Out of whatever passage, weary, wide, 

They rushed by dark and dreadful destinies. 



BEYOND THE BANK OF MIST. 15 

Is Love dashed outward from the rim of Earth 
And lost forever in the voids where swim 

Particular stars, chasing a mighty girth 
Of passage over roadways vast and dim ? 



What Star shall go with slow, reluctant feet 
Awaiting him, poor outcast of a World ? 

What Globe shall cease its rapid course of fleet 
Intensity for pinions torn and whirled ? 

Ah no, not so : my Spirit brake and turned 
Out of the world of Stars, and stood alone ; 

Blind to their fearful globes of fire that burned 
In fervid flight, I dared them all disown. 

They rest on endless seas and seas of space, 
Float in their vastness on a splendid tide. 

But I — O Spirit draw me to Thy place 

Held from th' impassioned stars, and them denied. 

'Tis Thine to keep me, or release and guide 
The windless ways of my outstarting Soul 

Over Thy perfect visions, where I glide 
Instinct with beauty of Thine own control. 



i6 BEYOND THE BANK OF MIST. 

What are the stars to me ? The paths they go 
Are set in clouds of glory, but I bide 

That burst of beauty where my Soul shall know 
The gaze of things that every star supplied. 

I cannot see them wheel and be content, 
I cannot see them die and think that they 

Are all of splendidness : Whatever sent 

Them blazing, suns my Spirit's startling way. 

And I am free, and they imprisoned fade : 
Fresh suns start into vacant fields and fly 

Mysterious paths, but they are wrapped and made 
Of Time's inferior essence, and they die. 

It matters not how long, or cold and slow, 
With years innumerable, or fearful plane 

Of distance, still they start, and live, and go. 
Creatures of Time, and Time's decease obtain. 



And shall I perish? There's not any star 

Can throb with me ; no panting suns can feel 

Release from Time, or wish, or purpose far 

Dissevered from the glittering roads they wheel. 



BEYOND THE BANK OF MIST. 

What's theirs I yield them, and depart and go 

With wings they know not, and with eyes that they 

Could never glorify if all I know 

Stop o'er the meaning of their wild array. 

I know on Earth my yearning pulses were 
Upstarted, and I know the Stars endowed 

My Spirit with their beauty, and appear 

The worlds of God, held on the mists and cloud. 

But there's another : lo, I long to see 
With the wide vision of a Soul that lies 

With lids still slumbering in mortality, 

And still with clouds of patience on its eyes. 

Be strong, my Spirit, bide ; resistlessly 

Break when thy closure goes ; put on thy guise 

Of being gained in bold capacity 

To pass from space of world's sublimities. 

Be child of Spirit ; Spirit-wise to dwell 

On any world, circling in any star 
Where God thy tale of Spirit-life shall tell. 

And where, whatever plains, thy pathways are. 



17 



1 8 BEYOND THE BANK OF MIST. 

Deep in mysterious passages of suns, 

Detailed to thoughts of beauty, and design 

Of witnessing where wide thy planet runs 

Thou seest her circle with the stars combine. 



Thou seest stretch the future pathways dim 
For the great messengers of God, who go 

Over the shoreless seas of space, and swim 
Glittering with vivid might and rapid flow. 

From world to world, in space from star to star. 
Spreads out thy sense of glory and delight 

Where the swift shades of being rise, and far 

Flino- out the essence of their crlobes throuo^h nicrht. 

There shalt thine aspect gather and increase, 

There shalt thou gaze, and break th' horizons wide 

Where swim the ceaseless lights through ceaseless seas, 
Ouenchlessly conscious of eternal tide. 

They cannot perish, the vast fields of God, 
They cannot end, the oceans of the Soul, 

No matter what the place that's yet untrod 
Some sun may rise, and startled planet roll. 



BEYOND THE BANK OF MIST. 19 

Little by little, lightening my Soul, I see ; 

I see the tireless circuits rising spread, 
The multitudinous stars break over me. 

Forward they fiy, on a vast impulse fed. 

Because, O God, because in me arose, 

Started, the light and consciousness sublime 

That hurls the orbit as it Hashino- o-oes, 

And chains the compass of its circling time. 



From thee! Thou lookest from afar; shall I 
Refuse the Vision — rooted refuse — decline 

The fearful aspect of Thine endless sky — 
More stubborn than a sun refuse a sien? 



Swung with his ponderous weight impalpably 
On nothing^ness, a flaming- world ascends 

Whatever paths thou pointest: shall I be 

Dead to the Word such vast commotion lends? 



O'er miles and miles — millions of drifting space — 
Plunges the ardor of his ready glow 

Seekingr the Earth: he sees her radiant face 
Smilino- in air: shall I refuse to know — 



20 BEYOND THE BANK OF MIST. 

So much of space — so much of hfe — so much 
Of power's vast heritage; of instinct fine 

Am I to stop, dissolve, turn at the touch 
Eternity outstretches upon mine? 

Am I enclosed and held so far from Thee? 

Condemned in the vast ocean of Thy Will 
Only Thy monstrous worlds as sparks to see, 

In all their rush of flight behold them still ? 

Not ever witness light that fills Thine eyes; 

My God, not know forever how afar 
O'er all that is Thy knowledge resting lies. 

Whatever worlds are swung-, or flames, or star ? 



&' 



I cannot satisfy my longing so; 

Hung in the midst of wild immensities 
How can my Spirit slumbler — how forego 

Presence outstretching- in their brilliancies? 



t> 



Ah, Glorious God, it is not so; for now 
Faintly inbreaking cometh certainty, 

A light, a flame, a spark, a glow that Thou 
Hast nurtured fills me, and I livino- see. 



BEYOND THE BANK OF MIST. 21 

I see the tides of an eternal sea 

Where swim the worlds; I see them poised, and skim 
Whatever dangerous ways exultingly, 

Darting by vivid waves where others swim. 

I cannot see an end; I cannot dream 

That shore or cloud, or calm, or dread abyss 

Could fathom a fierce hollow where the stream 
Of all that is should cease, or flow amiss. 

Enough: whirled on an aged, lessening Globe 

I am; vast in the concourse of a Sun 
With planets passing; on a plain where rode 

Innumerably the years that time outrun: — 

In all, the clouds, the time, the millions, space 
Of vastness and of darkness, and the light 

Ino-rowinof, and the far and forming face 

Of Earth among her sisters, and the sight — 

Of all looked on her, enough is at my will; 

I, standing in the midst of wonderment. 
Enough is in my instant, and I still 

May sweep some compass of that huge intent. 



22 BEYOND THE BANK OF MIST. 

And so I see: dipped in Thy light, O God, 
I cannot sleep in shadow, sparkling rise 

Incessantly some paths Thy purpose trod. 
Incessantly break out Thy destinies. 

Flashed into sense of beauty, and profound 
Acuteness o'er my Spirit for the light 

To witness Thee; in silence born for sound 
To stir the passion of a Soul's delight, 



It cannot be there is not world nor sphere 
To hold me in my stature, and to fill 

The void mine eyes must find when they appear 
On the horizon of Thy Spirit's will. 

I know Thou seest such; if unto Thee 

I yield my presence, and with rapid wings 

Of love outstretching search Thy sanctity. 
To every flight I pass their promise clings. 

Such worlds as Thou upholdest in delight; 

O distant Earth, impatient child of pain, 
Thou knowest not yet of measure, and thy flight 

Is sadly paced in that stupendous plain. 



BEYOND THE BANK OF MIST. 23 

Flashing within Thy power and Thy sight, 
Enfixed upon tremendous globes, design 

Of what Thou thinkest widens; worlds invite 

Where Thou wouldst have my Spirit's space in Thine. 

Where Thou hast pleasure there my sight to be, 
Ah, watchful God, what lengthening could refine 

The cold, dull eyes of Earth to strain and see 
This passion of Thy pleasantness divine ? 

I know my Spirit brightens, and will throw 
Desertion with its darkness on my frame, 

I know my body lightens, but I know 

Thou hast the passion, Spirit, in thy name. 

Sad compasser of Glory, O my frame. 

When will thy knowledge yield me, when divine 

Shall rise my Spirit on the path of flame 

To pass the passage where no course is thine ? 

Bathed in the light of ever-Howing suns 

That into consciousness arise, and are 
Moulded in being with the Life that runs 

From Everlasting Spirit into star ; — 



24 BEYOND THE BANK OF MIST. 

Swept onward from the resting globes to be 

Unweariedly sustained upon the air 
That bears their monstrous fashion eagerly, 

And knows not where they cease, nor fail, nor where — 



Aught else should circle in it that is not, — 

O Spirit, on thine ever-spreading wings, 
Return no more, survive, seek not the spot 

Where thou must furl thy thght through bitter things. 

Some morn shall keep thee, vanished with its cloud. 
Some passioned stillness hide thee in the night, 

Some wind of Heaven shall bear thee, wrapped and bowed 
And nurse thee onwards towards a long delight. 



Time, with its shadow dialed upon Earth, 
Cloaked thine invention, and obtained delay 

To hang upon thine aspect, and thy birth 
Stood in its sad disuse by day and day. 

But Time must bear thee as the wind its wings 
Of action beareth ; rising for Hight intense 

Thou'st passage hence, darting to distant things 
Over the airs that yield thee evidence : — 



BEYOND THE BANK OF MIST. 25 

And o'er a world of ecstasy dost cling, 

Doubtful in pleasure, stopped, o'er joy alight, 

And with swift pinion of ethereal wing 
Dost rush upon the rim of thy delight. 

O thou bright spark of Spirit, kindling slow 

On the damp breath of Earth, bedimmed, denied, 

What evil wind shall shake thy visage now, 

What doubt becloud thee, or what shadow hide ? 

Circling from Earth ; flying for airs that bring 

Odors of peace and a divine intent, 
High in the fanes of cloud thou burn'st each thing 

Of sorrow in a vivid sacrament. 



And where ? There is a realm — a place — a scene — 
I know not where — what orb — nor space — nor by 

What brilliant sun propelled, what stars between — 
'Mid the vast things where God's decisions lie. 

This land is woven of a far design 

Laid on the throbs of being, and a maze 

Of many shiftings draws the glittering line 

Of endless substance through immense displays. 



26 BEYOND THE BANK OE AflST. 

There's never list of beauty ; not a cloud 

Draws settled shades of splendor from a sun 

Of ever finished pattern : nor endowed 

With end the reels of action hastening run. 

Launched on the motions of that ceaseless sea, 
O Soul, what ancientness shall ever lose 

On it thy passion of expectancy, 

What far off thing shall thy closed eyes refuse ? 

Thou canst not breast the bosom of this tide 
With eyes that fail in distance, and decline 

The splendid passages of space supplied 
Around the figures of immense design. 

If thou refuse and fail, and downward turn 
The falterinor of enfeebled gfaze, and seek 

Some shade where thou should'st slumber and discern 
No more the o-lorious orbs that rush and break— 



Over the bounds of vacancy, and are 

Problems of God, set speaking to desire — 

With each old question answered in a star — 
Lo, if thou fail for these, they fail in fire. 



BEYOND THE BANK OE MIST. 27 

Dashed at thy spark of Spirit vision rolls 
Out of their magnified portents, and waits 

Vast apparition of eternal poles, 

Drawing the confines of their hugre estates. 

And thou, beginning in thy glimmering sense 

Of substance, should'st thou turning moan and shake 

On sight the sharpness of a keen silence. 

And from those lordly forms thy vision take ? 

Farewell, farewell? O Spirit, Spirit, yield; 

Cleave to whatever flash for thee shall break. 
Strike at the virtue of those worlds concealed. 

Fly thitherward, whatever flight o'ertake. 

But thou must pass the passages of air 

With wing more light than cloud, more pure than 
space. 
Thou canst not ferry, for thy portage there. 

With the poor pinions of exhausted race. 

Lift on the wings of Spirit its essence, 

As morning clouds rising o'ertake their light, 

Beat on that pure, ethereal evidence 

The equal fervor of a Spirit's flight. 



28 BEYOND THE BANK OF MIST. 

Out on the globe of Earth I stood, and drew 
Secret of sweetness from the shoreless tide 

That streams round every star, and storms, and through 
Vastness of vastness rushes, full supplied. 

I stood upon the tiny speck unscared 

Of that fierce-fashioned, fathomless abyss, 

And o'er its frantic distance have I dared 

Search some impulse should draw my soul from this. 

So the strong stars sang me their steady tale 
Of being's fixed companionship, and moved 

Safely respective curnmts in the gale 

Sweeping them onward through their fields beloved. 

I saw them circle, and I heard my heart 
Beat in its impulse for their favored ways, 

I knew some sound would loosen and impart 
The mystery to sing their splendid rays. 

And while I stood and gazed, a consciousness 
Flew with unspeakable fieetness through the sea 

Of that eternal distance; calm excess 
Of every space carried that message me. 



BEYOND THE BANK OF MIST. 29 

Whatever face upgazing Heaven, or cries 
Whatever fashioned sorrow struck the heart, 

Whatever watery waste where'er it Hes, 

Wherever, tenant of the gloom, thou art, — 

I cannot tell what wind shall draw thee there, 

What chime the bells of Heaven shall send o'er sea. 

What gleams of Paradise shall gild the air, 

Where, in the Songs of Stars, refreshment be; — 



Tis all I know for me the vanishment 
Of that imperial ether of unuse 

Was Spirit's secret, made for Love and sent 
Into a Soul could not her claim refuse. 



Whatever sun may rise, or colors go, 

Whatever glory burst with hope and shine, 

PVom what recess whatever forms may flow, 
Eternity, the flood recedes in thine. 

Lapped on this tide of Time emblazoned lies 
Transparently thy purpose and decree; 

I am not Soul of Man, my Spirit flies 

With double instinct from the waves to thee. 



30 BEYOND THE BANK OF MIST. 

Lo, from thy land that knows not t^uiU nor shade 
A sweet disturbance parted by the sea, 

Thy troubled bosom, Spirit, yearned and made 
My Soul, and winged it out to destiny. 

Spirit I come; cast up the rapid years, 

O God sift down the sands of Time from me, 

Strike from the world a whirling mist of tears — 
A Soul of Man knows Love immortally. 



Still in the world I am a subtle thing 

bormed for the light of Heaven, where penetrate 
Ostensibly the eyes of God ; I sing 

Their knowledofe throusfh this fierce, bewildered state. 



God turned the streams ot I'aradise, and drew 
The ancient storage of their happy draught ; 

Because I loved Him, lo, His Spirit threw 

Life in the cup where all the dead had quaffed ; 

Remembrance came : O wind of Paradise, 

Driven from thy land ; impassioned, poor, exiled, 

I saw again thy gentle bosom rise, 

I saw thee rustle and thy country smiled. 



BEYOND THE BAXK OF MIST. 31 

Peace : Time and Substance of a fearful space 
Wrought in the depths of Heaven : rested in air 

MilHons of movements ; and a desert place 

Blossomed to life — that Love should find it there. 

It were a sin to Time to fail, nor take 

The long transcriptions of its tale no more. 

Eternity, O hope of Time. I break 

The opening of thy record, and I pour — 

The stainless purpose of my heart on thee. 

Fashion divine, for me thy virtues bear 
This deathless instinct of thine alchemy, 

The Life that God eave Love and left in air ! 



And I, who see these things, see also Who 

Swept of the fretful Earth her clouds, and broke 

Her darkness with His Vision, and Who drew 
Her shadows down, and cast her closures ope. 

Through them I see. standing in steps are mine 
Because I follow, and because mine eyes 

As followers into tender spaces shine, 
There see I blossoming His old replies. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

liilliliiM^^ 

016 211 525 A W . 






